It has been just one day since Grand Grand died. I went to Mee Mee’s today to see her and my parents. I was scared to go but I asked Amy to go with me because I needed a friend beside me. At first, I was ok, even when I was asked how I was doing and I heard the first “I’m so sorry…” of what is going to be a long Sunday and Monday.
It was hard to look Mee Mee in the eye. I guess because when I do I see the pain that I know is mirrored in my eyes. I feel numb. It is not that I am empty or full, I just can’t feel anything but my own pain to everything else I am numb.
I dropped Amy off on my way home…I had made it all day without crying, but as I drove home I realized I am alone and the pain took over. I don’t have that other half to hug me and tell me that it will be ok. I don’t have someone to say, “you are upset, let me drive.” Richie isn’t here to lay in bed next to me…even if we don’t talk, he would just be here. He is the other half to my half and he’s not here.
Richie was with me with my grandfather died in 2002, he was with me when Ma Ma Bea died in 2005. But he’s not here this year. I am alone and every thing I felt in April is flooding back into my heart. The pain is so intense. I found myself crying that gut wrenching cry. The cry that takes over and twists your heart inside out and makes you double over. It is so hard to explain what this feels like…when I try to put it into words it doesn’t do the pain justice. It over takes me, over powers everything in my body to the point that I am exhausted and can hardly move. It paralyzes me. But then, I don’t sleep. I lay there in the dark and I think. I remember finding him, I remember the hospital, I remember waking up and it being my sister Michelle in the bed with me and not him that first morning after…I remember telling my dad to have “Amazing Grace” played but I refused to help plan the funeral. I remember sitting with his sister on the front porch at 7am and wondering what I was going to do. I remember it all…or the parts that weren’t masked by the medication. I remember just how much I loved him and that now he’s gone. Then the crying takes over again and I find myself lost in the pain.
Why did Richie die and leave me alone?
Footprints
1/26/07
Grand Grand- The End of His Dash
My grandfather, Grand Grand, died today. I found out right before my plane took off from Salt Lake to come home. I’ve spent a lot of this flight thinking of him and death and why my family has to endure another one so soon after losing Richie. Even when I know that their deaths are so different I get confused and emotions I had when Richie died come crashing into my heart. Mom, Uncle Ricky, and Mee Mee were all there with him holding his hand and giving him peace. Why wasn't I able to do this for Richie? Why couldn't I have gotten there just a few minutes more to hold him as he died...my heart is so torn up and confused about this. I wanted to give Richie peace...
I really want to tell you a little about my Grand Grand…so you can understand why I loved him so much. First of all, whenever you called his and Mee Mee’s house he always was the one to answer. See, his chair sat right next to the phone. And the chair, oh, let me tell you, we all KNEW it was his chair. It was well worn and the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in. Mee Mee was always buying him a new one every so often but to this little girl, it was the same chair even after it was replaced again and again because it always smelled just like him. It was so worn in that when you sat you were immediately snuggled all in, just like you were if you crawled up in his lap. I did that a few times at Christmas…he would sit there opening his presents slowing (because he was paying too much attention to all of us girls to open his) and after we had opened ours I remember crawling up on his lap.
Grand Grand had a laugh that was infectious. Actually, calling it a laugh is a little bold, Grand Grand was a giggler. And when he giggled his bright blue eyes sparkled and twinkled that you had to join right in with him. In fact, if you were ever around my grandfather you knew you were going to end up giggling over something or more than likely, over nothing.
A long time ago we all realized that half the time we didn’t know what he was saying…and that wasn’t because of old age…Grand Grand just giggled and then would mumble something and continue on with his giggling and of course, his six granddaughters who were enamored by him, would giggle right along with him.
I remember back in college I would sometimes drive over to see them and spend the night. It never failed, Grand Grand would grill hamburgers and we would have fresh tomatoes from his garden to go on them. As I type this I can almost hear him coming in through the back door yelling, “Mother, here are the burgers…where do you want me to put them?” Cause, Grand Grand like the rest of us knew that Mee Mee’s kitchen was her kitchen except for one time of the day- breakfast! Breakfast was Grand Grand’s time. He would get up at 4:30 or 5am and start making his biscuits and let me tell you, Chic-Fil-A had nothing on my grandfather’s biscuits! They were always perfect and no matter who has tried to make them since then, they don’t have whatever special ingredient that he always put in them to make them so good. Of course, now that I am older, I realize the special ingredient was love. He loved his wife, his children, his grandchildren and his great grand children like no other man.
I’ll never forget my Grand Grand. He lived life to the fullest and we are all here as proof of that. He always told us he loved us whenever we talked and even up until the day he died he was still showing those baby blue eyes to everyone that went to see him.
I’ll miss you Grand Grand…have a safe trip to heaven and your Grand Son-In-Law will take really good care of you. Please tell Richie I love him...especially today...
I really want to tell you a little about my Grand Grand…so you can understand why I loved him so much. First of all, whenever you called his and Mee Mee’s house he always was the one to answer. See, his chair sat right next to the phone. And the chair, oh, let me tell you, we all KNEW it was his chair. It was well worn and the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in. Mee Mee was always buying him a new one every so often but to this little girl, it was the same chair even after it was replaced again and again because it always smelled just like him. It was so worn in that when you sat you were immediately snuggled all in, just like you were if you crawled up in his lap. I did that a few times at Christmas…he would sit there opening his presents slowing (because he was paying too much attention to all of us girls to open his) and after we had opened ours I remember crawling up on his lap.
Grand Grand had a laugh that was infectious. Actually, calling it a laugh is a little bold, Grand Grand was a giggler. And when he giggled his bright blue eyes sparkled and twinkled that you had to join right in with him. In fact, if you were ever around my grandfather you knew you were going to end up giggling over something or more than likely, over nothing.
A long time ago we all realized that half the time we didn’t know what he was saying…and that wasn’t because of old age…Grand Grand just giggled and then would mumble something and continue on with his giggling and of course, his six granddaughters who were enamored by him, would giggle right along with him.
I remember back in college I would sometimes drive over to see them and spend the night. It never failed, Grand Grand would grill hamburgers and we would have fresh tomatoes from his garden to go on them. As I type this I can almost hear him coming in through the back door yelling, “Mother, here are the burgers…where do you want me to put them?” Cause, Grand Grand like the rest of us knew that Mee Mee’s kitchen was her kitchen except for one time of the day- breakfast! Breakfast was Grand Grand’s time. He would get up at 4:30 or 5am and start making his biscuits and let me tell you, Chic-Fil-A had nothing on my grandfather’s biscuits! They were always perfect and no matter who has tried to make them since then, they don’t have whatever special ingredient that he always put in them to make them so good. Of course, now that I am older, I realize the special ingredient was love. He loved his wife, his children, his grandchildren and his great grand children like no other man.
I’ll never forget my Grand Grand. He lived life to the fullest and we are all here as proof of that. He always told us he loved us whenever we talked and even up until the day he died he was still showing those baby blue eyes to everyone that went to see him.
I’ll miss you Grand Grand…have a safe trip to heaven and your Grand Son-In-Law will take really good care of you. Please tell Richie I love him...especially today...
1/21/07
Boredom...
This word has an entirely new meaning to me these days. I can have a million things on my calendar for the day, week, month, but I am still bored.
I go out, I meet friends, I stay home and read, I exercise...but whatever it is I am doing it never really matters...I am bored.
I feel as if I am in a holding pattern right now. What is my next step? It is the 90 day count down until the 1 year sadversary as we widows call it. I guess in my mind I don't feel as if I will see any realy meaning to life until after that day? That somehow when I wake up the day after April 18th, 2007 I will miraculously be "better" or "healed" from all my grieving.
I asked a widow friend the other night, "were we this bored when they were alive?" I don't think so...I looked forward to coming home and cooking dinner. I loved it when we made our weekend plans. Richie and I used to always complain that all we ever did was pack on Thursday night and unpack on Sunday nights...we were a weekend suitcase family. But we had it all down to a science. I would make a list of what we had to pack, I would email it to him and he would add in his things or make changes. We never seemed bored.
But now that is just how my life feels. Nothing excites me. Tomorrow I am heading out to Salt Lake for a work trip. I tagged on an extra day so I could go up to Park City and ski. I'm nervous. Last May when I did the same thing and drove to Snowbird I didn't even put on my ski clothes. I was too sad to ski. I mean, the last 5 years I have only been with Richie. I was just too scared to even try. I had a feeling I would get too emotional and not be able to make it down. But Tuesday I am skiing with a good friend. I am going to put those skis on and make Richie smile down at me. I know he'll be proud of his "pretty lady" going and doing one of our favorite things.
On a random note I had the sweetest thing happen to me today at WalMart. There is this old man that works there in the garden department. Over the last two years we've gotten to where we chat each time I go in. When I went to WalMart the first time after Richie died, he knew immediately something was wrong. I probably gave it away with the no makeup, looking like I hadn't taken a shower in a week or it could have just been the lost look I have acquired in this new life. Anyway, that day he carried my bags out for me and we talked for a long time. He is a very religious man and he shared some wonderful scriptures with me. Tonight when I went in he said he had been worried about me because he hadn't seen me since before Thanksgiving. He said I was looking good- got on to me about the "eating" thing-but he told me he had prayed for me constantly over Christmas. I told him that I have noticed something...whenever I am sad and then something makes me smile for no particular reason I know it is a prayer from someone coming through God to touch me.
He smiled and he said that I had a lot of angels out in the world and he thinks they are delivering all the prayers to me personally right now because I need the strength. He is an angel and you know what, we've never even told each other our names...but we talk as if we have known each other forever...I think he's an angel that Richie sent to me and one day I will be an angel for him and hopefully be there for him.
I miss you so much tonight Richie...Levi, KC and I are sitting here by the fire. He's chewing a dog bone and KC is just staring at him. Your little family is thinking about you and we love you so much.
I go out, I meet friends, I stay home and read, I exercise...but whatever it is I am doing it never really matters...I am bored.
I feel as if I am in a holding pattern right now. What is my next step? It is the 90 day count down until the 1 year sadversary as we widows call it. I guess in my mind I don't feel as if I will see any realy meaning to life until after that day? That somehow when I wake up the day after April 18th, 2007 I will miraculously be "better" or "healed" from all my grieving.
I asked a widow friend the other night, "were we this bored when they were alive?" I don't think so...I looked forward to coming home and cooking dinner. I loved it when we made our weekend plans. Richie and I used to always complain that all we ever did was pack on Thursday night and unpack on Sunday nights...we were a weekend suitcase family. But we had it all down to a science. I would make a list of what we had to pack, I would email it to him and he would add in his things or make changes. We never seemed bored.
But now that is just how my life feels. Nothing excites me. Tomorrow I am heading out to Salt Lake for a work trip. I tagged on an extra day so I could go up to Park City and ski. I'm nervous. Last May when I did the same thing and drove to Snowbird I didn't even put on my ski clothes. I was too sad to ski. I mean, the last 5 years I have only been with Richie. I was just too scared to even try. I had a feeling I would get too emotional and not be able to make it down. But Tuesday I am skiing with a good friend. I am going to put those skis on and make Richie smile down at me. I know he'll be proud of his "pretty lady" going and doing one of our favorite things.
On a random note I had the sweetest thing happen to me today at WalMart. There is this old man that works there in the garden department. Over the last two years we've gotten to where we chat each time I go in. When I went to WalMart the first time after Richie died, he knew immediately something was wrong. I probably gave it away with the no makeup, looking like I hadn't taken a shower in a week or it could have just been the lost look I have acquired in this new life. Anyway, that day he carried my bags out for me and we talked for a long time. He is a very religious man and he shared some wonderful scriptures with me. Tonight when I went in he said he had been worried about me because he hadn't seen me since before Thanksgiving. He said I was looking good- got on to me about the "eating" thing-but he told me he had prayed for me constantly over Christmas. I told him that I have noticed something...whenever I am sad and then something makes me smile for no particular reason I know it is a prayer from someone coming through God to touch me.
He smiled and he said that I had a lot of angels out in the world and he thinks they are delivering all the prayers to me personally right now because I need the strength. He is an angel and you know what, we've never even told each other our names...but we talk as if we have known each other forever...I think he's an angel that Richie sent to me and one day I will be an angel for him and hopefully be there for him.
I miss you so much tonight Richie...Levi, KC and I are sitting here by the fire. He's chewing a dog bone and KC is just staring at him. Your little family is thinking about you and we love you so much.
1/20/07
Weekends
It used to be fun to wake up on Saturdays...stretch, look around and realize that you have an entire day to do what you want.
Most of my Saturdays were spent watching Richie get up, mess with Levi a little, make fun of the cat, and the he would get in the shower. He did that first thing every morning whether it was a work day or not.
After he showered he would get ready to go play golf...yep, that was his Saturday routine. The phone would start ringing and I'd hear him say, "What's up brohand..." And it would be Tracy, Rad or Brad calling to find out if they were carpooling and what time the tee time was. Richie always wanted to get there early so he could hit some and warm up.
I'd get up as he was getting ready and I'd decide to go shopping or maybe do some things around the house.
It was such a nice routine we had gotten into. Even when we were dating this was our routine. I'd be at his house and I'd watch him go through the same process. It never changed much. He was a simple man with a simple life on the weekends...hunting, golf and then we'd have dinner or go out with friends.
I miss that routine this morning. I have laid in bed, not crying, but I am sad and wish that I had something right now to look forward to for the day. I do make plans and I try to stay busy but sometimes I just lie here and remember those special mornings with him. He made my weekends special because he was a part of them.
Most of my Saturdays were spent watching Richie get up, mess with Levi a little, make fun of the cat, and the he would get in the shower. He did that first thing every morning whether it was a work day or not.
After he showered he would get ready to go play golf...yep, that was his Saturday routine. The phone would start ringing and I'd hear him say, "What's up brohand..." And it would be Tracy, Rad or Brad calling to find out if they were carpooling and what time the tee time was. Richie always wanted to get there early so he could hit some and warm up.
I'd get up as he was getting ready and I'd decide to go shopping or maybe do some things around the house.
It was such a nice routine we had gotten into. Even when we were dating this was our routine. I'd be at his house and I'd watch him go through the same process. It never changed much. He was a simple man with a simple life on the weekends...hunting, golf and then we'd have dinner or go out with friends.
I miss that routine this morning. I have laid in bed, not crying, but I am sad and wish that I had something right now to look forward to for the day. I do make plans and I try to stay busy but sometimes I just lie here and remember those special mornings with him. He made my weekends special because he was a part of them.
1/15/07
If Tomorrow Never Comes
Sometimes late at night I lie awake and watch her sleeping
She's lost in peaceful dreams
So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark
And the thought crosses my mind
If I never wake up in the morning
Would she ever doubt the way
I feel About her in my heart
If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That she's my only one
And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes
'Cause I've lost loved ones in my life
Who never knew how much I loved them
Now I live with the regret
That my true feelings for them never were revealed
So I made a promise to myself
To say each day how much she means to me
And avoid that circumstance
Where there's no second chance to tell her how I feel
If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That she's my only one
And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes
So tell that someone that you love
Just what you're thinking of
If tomorrow never comes
...
She's lost in peaceful dreams
So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark
And the thought crosses my mind
If I never wake up in the morning
Would she ever doubt the way
I feel About her in my heart
If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That she's my only one
And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes
'Cause I've lost loved ones in my life
Who never knew how much I loved them
Now I live with the regret
That my true feelings for them never were revealed
So I made a promise to myself
To say each day how much she means to me
And avoid that circumstance
Where there's no second chance to tell her how I feel
If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That she's my only one
And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes
So tell that someone that you love
Just what you're thinking of
If tomorrow never comes
...
Feeling Again?
1-3 Months- denial
3-6 Months- pain/depression
6 Month- Reality sets in
7-9 Months- Light
9-12 Months- Reflection/Pain
These pretty much sum up my grief journey so far. Of course there are low points, so low that you think your life is over and there is no getting better. Then there are high points where it really does hit you that you didn't think about him first thing when you woke up or when you went to bed. Those moments are the most terrifying.
I am trying to stay busy now. More so because I know that when I stop and slow down I will see just how far I have come. I will see that I am smiling, I am laughing, I am looking forward to things again. I am scared to stop and see all of that because that means I am healing and when you heal that means (in a widow's mind) that he's not as fresh in your memory. You are moving ahead without him. He is no longer your present or your future.
Tonight I sat and went through some pictures. I didn't cry. I just looked. I looked at his eyes, his ears, his nose, the mole on his face he hated and always asked if he should get removed. I tried to memorize every detail. I wanted to remember, to feel, to "see" my Richie again.
I am reflecting on it all. I know that in three months it will be 1 year. I have gone one year without Richie. It's terrifying to let myself think that. To allow my mind and heart to process that fact. I try to stay busy because for now it's easier not to let myself "go there." It's so much easier on me to try to ignore it and put it away. I know that this is only going to last so long. I know that in a month or so it's going to hit me and it's going to hit hard. But this time I think I'll be prepared. I'll be able to let the wave hit me, knock me down, and I'll float in the water for a while...then I'll stand up and walk back on shore. I'll be exhausted but I'll make it back to the safety of the shore.
Richie, I miss you.
3-6 Months- pain/depression
6 Month- Reality sets in
7-9 Months- Light
9-12 Months- Reflection/Pain
These pretty much sum up my grief journey so far. Of course there are low points, so low that you think your life is over and there is no getting better. Then there are high points where it really does hit you that you didn't think about him first thing when you woke up or when you went to bed. Those moments are the most terrifying.
I am trying to stay busy now. More so because I know that when I stop and slow down I will see just how far I have come. I will see that I am smiling, I am laughing, I am looking forward to things again. I am scared to stop and see all of that because that means I am healing and when you heal that means (in a widow's mind) that he's not as fresh in your memory. You are moving ahead without him. He is no longer your present or your future.
Tonight I sat and went through some pictures. I didn't cry. I just looked. I looked at his eyes, his ears, his nose, the mole on his face he hated and always asked if he should get removed. I tried to memorize every detail. I wanted to remember, to feel, to "see" my Richie again.
I am reflecting on it all. I know that in three months it will be 1 year. I have gone one year without Richie. It's terrifying to let myself think that. To allow my mind and heart to process that fact. I try to stay busy because for now it's easier not to let myself "go there." It's so much easier on me to try to ignore it and put it away. I know that this is only going to last so long. I know that in a month or so it's going to hit me and it's going to hit hard. But this time I think I'll be prepared. I'll be able to let the wave hit me, knock me down, and I'll float in the water for a while...then I'll stand up and walk back on shore. I'll be exhausted but I'll make it back to the safety of the shore.
Richie, I miss you.
1/11/07
A Letter to My Wife
I Hear Each Tear
My Wife does not know I am watching her But I'm watching her just the same.
And I hear each tear fall on her face, At the mention of my name.
She says it sounds like music to her ears, And can be heard over a crowd.
Oh, I hear each tear fall on her face, When my name is said aloud.
I watch her stumble through each day, As she wishes the day would end.
And I hear each tear fall on her face, As she talks of me with our friends.
But there are few who truly understand. Oh this I've heard her proclaim.
And I hear each tear fall on her face. Will my Wife ever be the same?
I know that her smile can light up a sky, But I don't see that smile today.
But I hear each tear fall on her face, Her blue skies have turned to gray.
I send to her my warmest hug With the rays of the morning sun.
Then I won't hear a tear fall on her face, For I shall erase them one-by-one.
My Wife does not know I am watching her, But I'm watching her just the same.
And if I hear a tear fall on her face, I'll just softly whisper her name.
My Wife does not know I am watching her But I'm watching her just the same.
And I hear each tear fall on her face, At the mention of my name.
She says it sounds like music to her ears, And can be heard over a crowd.
Oh, I hear each tear fall on her face, When my name is said aloud.
I watch her stumble through each day, As she wishes the day would end.
And I hear each tear fall on her face, As she talks of me with our friends.
But there are few who truly understand. Oh this I've heard her proclaim.
And I hear each tear fall on her face. Will my Wife ever be the same?
I know that her smile can light up a sky, But I don't see that smile today.
But I hear each tear fall on her face, Her blue skies have turned to gray.
I send to her my warmest hug With the rays of the morning sun.
Then I won't hear a tear fall on her face, For I shall erase them one-by-one.
My Wife does not know I am watching her, But I'm watching her just the same.
And if I hear a tear fall on her face, I'll just softly whisper her name.
1/5/07
Lost or Found?
Tonight I flew back from a work trip and as is the case since Richie died I got my "coming home depression." As we began our decent into Atlanta, I closed my eyes and I asked God questions...what is my purpose in life now? Where do I go from here...and where is here? What do I want, what do I feel and where is my future?
As little girls we grow up planning our lives out...what our husbands are going to be like, where will we live, how many children will we have...all those things that you whispered and giggled about under the covers with your girlfriends.
I am realizing that my life will never live up to that fairytale anymore. Not that anyone's life is truly a fairytale, but for me I won't fall in love, get married, have children, and live happily ever after anymore. I will always have fallen in love with Richie first. For me, this is a badge of honor, a true testament for who I am now and who I will be as I grow in my grief. It's something that I will cherish for the rest of my life. But for others, it's sad, it's depressing, it's something no one wants to see or acknowledge. To others, it's too painful to even comprehend so they chose to think of the positive...that I am young and will one day find someone, marry and live happily ever after...
But for me...Richie and his death are a part of who I am. I don't want to forget it too soon. I need to take the time to cherish every moment his life gave mine. I need to spend time remembering everything I can about him, me and our life together. It's a part of my being, my soul, my heart.
Heather told me earlier tonight that even though I feel that I am "lost" I am probably not as lost as I think I am. I hope she is right. I don't want to be lost anymore. I am ready to be found, but I want to find myself on my own.
As little girls we grow up planning our lives out...what our husbands are going to be like, where will we live, how many children will we have...all those things that you whispered and giggled about under the covers with your girlfriends.
I am realizing that my life will never live up to that fairytale anymore. Not that anyone's life is truly a fairytale, but for me I won't fall in love, get married, have children, and live happily ever after anymore. I will always have fallen in love with Richie first. For me, this is a badge of honor, a true testament for who I am now and who I will be as I grow in my grief. It's something that I will cherish for the rest of my life. But for others, it's sad, it's depressing, it's something no one wants to see or acknowledge. To others, it's too painful to even comprehend so they chose to think of the positive...that I am young and will one day find someone, marry and live happily ever after...
But for me...Richie and his death are a part of who I am. I don't want to forget it too soon. I need to take the time to cherish every moment his life gave mine. I need to spend time remembering everything I can about him, me and our life together. It's a part of my being, my soul, my heart.
Heather told me earlier tonight that even though I feel that I am "lost" I am probably not as lost as I think I am. I hope she is right. I don't want to be lost anymore. I am ready to be found, but I want to find myself on my own.
1/3/07
My So Called Life
Do you ever look around and think, "God my life just went down the toliet, didn't it?" I know I have loads to be a grateful for and I do remind myself of those things regularly but wow, the script of my life looks nothing like it did just a year ago.
This grief stuff is HUGE and all encompassing. I frequently feel like my head is so far up my own butt that even today I can't see anyone else but me! I'm really overwhelmed just dealing with me. I'm amazed at how many times I've heard "she must move on." I've decided that is code for she must start dating. But I really I don't want to. I want to be happy with me and that's still a work in progress.
Amazing how we all can't handle anything but a Hollywood ending. Every single relationship I have had in the past has changed since Danny died. Every single one. And it makes you feel like a stranger in a strange land, looking for some familiarity but you can't find any.
I used to be such a nice polite person. I'm still relatively polite but I take my bluntness to the extreme. I have no patience for fluff and nonsense and often don't care if there are hurt feelings. In truth, many people irritate me. I lost my husband and then got royally abused by his family. I know where all this anger and hatred stems from and it's made me a pretty petulant widow. If I don't enjoy someones company, I don't want to hang out with them again. And all I feel is enormous relief at making those kinds of choices for myself.
Lordy me, where am I going with all of this? Basically, I feel like the fruit loop of widows, I feel like I could be that crazy lady on the corner screaming at the passing cars. Somethings not quite right with me. May be this is the "new normal", and all it needs a big dose of tweaking, shaping, rebuilding and acceptance. May be it's just those new year's blues. Does anyone else still feel enormously unhinged at times? Therapists should not necessarily go on vacation.
-Written by a Rachel D- a young widow friend of mine-
This grief stuff is HUGE and all encompassing. I frequently feel like my head is so far up my own butt that even today I can't see anyone else but me! I'm really overwhelmed just dealing with me. I'm amazed at how many times I've heard "she must move on." I've decided that is code for she must start dating. But I really I don't want to. I want to be happy with me and that's still a work in progress.
Amazing how we all can't handle anything but a Hollywood ending. Every single relationship I have had in the past has changed since Danny died. Every single one. And it makes you feel like a stranger in a strange land, looking for some familiarity but you can't find any.
I used to be such a nice polite person. I'm still relatively polite but I take my bluntness to the extreme. I have no patience for fluff and nonsense and often don't care if there are hurt feelings. In truth, many people irritate me. I lost my husband and then got royally abused by his family. I know where all this anger and hatred stems from and it's made me a pretty petulant widow. If I don't enjoy someones company, I don't want to hang out with them again. And all I feel is enormous relief at making those kinds of choices for myself.
Lordy me, where am I going with all of this? Basically, I feel like the fruit loop of widows, I feel like I could be that crazy lady on the corner screaming at the passing cars. Somethings not quite right with me. May be this is the "new normal", and all it needs a big dose of tweaking, shaping, rebuilding and acceptance. May be it's just those new year's blues. Does anyone else still feel enormously unhinged at times? Therapists should not necessarily go on vacation.
-Written by a Rachel D- a young widow friend of mine-
Walking Your Own Walk...
You have to walk your own walk in this life. And as you are traveling down your road, don't look down at your feet. Keep your head up and your eyes focused on what you know to be true. Be neither a follower nor a leader. You are not forsaken; you are forgiven, and when shadows exist simply find higher ground to tread upon.
If you come across an obstacle or an impasse, pay mind to it but don't focus on it for too long or your feet may sink into the quicksand that surrounds it. Find the courage to surmount it and continue on your journey. Offer your hand to those you come across who are stuck in their own personal sand traps, but do not point them in the direction you feel they must go, that has to be their decision. Only imply to them that they are never alone, and they will eventually find their way.
When you get to where you are going and you look back, it is your own footprints you are going to want to see, not someone else's. The importance of your trials and tribulations is a gift to be beholden, for that is how you will learn whom you truly are.
If you come across an obstacle or an impasse, pay mind to it but don't focus on it for too long or your feet may sink into the quicksand that surrounds it. Find the courage to surmount it and continue on your journey. Offer your hand to those you come across who are stuck in their own personal sand traps, but do not point them in the direction you feel they must go, that has to be their decision. Only imply to them that they are never alone, and they will eventually find their way.
When you get to where you are going and you look back, it is your own footprints you are going to want to see, not someone else's. The importance of your trials and tribulations is a gift to be beholden, for that is how you will learn whom you truly are.
1/1/07
My New Year's Eve Moment
Last night, as the countdown began I had one friend hugging me and another holding my hand as I quietly cried. I didn't cry long and no one really noticed I was crying except for the two amazing friends who were quietly crying with me as I said goodbye to 2006 and hello to 2007.
I am so blessed...I was not alone and I was held close by two dear friends.
I am so blessed...I was not alone and I was held close by two dear friends.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)